I Love This Doktor!
by KillerLover
Summary: Everyone knows the Heavy is the best Medic buddy. What happens when unwanted feelings start to develop? warning: mxm/yaoi. Don't like it? Don't read it! Reviews appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

"You did good, today, Doktor."

The Medic glanced up, looking at the Heavy in one of the beds in the infirmary. He grunted, not at all agreeing with his good friend. They lost the scout—as in literally lost him, no one had any clue where he was dead or alive. They lost their intelligence. And he almost lost Heavy. No, today he had not done good at all. But the Russian man repeated it loudly, as if he was afraid the Medic was deaf. "Bah," he started, looking up from his paperwork at the desk at Heavy before replying insistently, "Nein!"

"Da," the Heavy countered with a grin, "I am alive. You did well!" It was like he was talking to Sasha or his sandvich. The Medic headed over to check on Heavy's status, looking under the gauze that was wound about his torso and arms. Just as he was peeking under the last of the bandages he felt Heavy's hand suddenly landing on top of his head, the weight of it alone made Medic stumble, his head nearly colliding with Heavy's stomach, but he managed to catch himself in time. It was just a friendly touch. They were closer than anyone else on the team after all. "Scout will be fine," he said, tousling the German man's hair before returning his arm to the bed, smiling up at the other optimistically, "He is a quick, itty-bitty man." Medic nodded, pulling the covers back over Heavy. He had had to remove the man's shirt to get to his wounds. Unlike what the Spy said, most of the Heavy's large stature was due to pure muscle. It was quite an exquisite sight, but one that Medic tried not to marvel at. "Thank you, Doktor!" he said as he felt the blanket being pulled back up, "You are great doktor!" Medic smiled, knowing his friend was just trying to cheer him up after such an awful day.

After a moment, Medic replied, "Danke." He patted Heavy's hand, not at all convinced that everything was all right or even secure in his abilities anymore. He let his Heavy get hurt! But it was best to just agree with the man and return to his paper work. "You vill be fine," he told Heavy, which seemed to just give the Russian more reason to rejoice, "You vill need to rest for a few days."

"Doktor.." the Heavy started, "I am hungry." Nodding, the Medic stood from his table and exited the room, only to come back a few minutes later, the item in his hand causing Heavy's eyes to light up with joy. "Sandvich!" he said, delighted as he held his hands out for the sandwich, "I love this doctor!" He looked around, wanting to tell the world how amazing his Medic was, but only he and the Medic were there. So instead he chose to eat his sandwich loudly, quiet happy to have it.

He spent the rest of the day there with Heavy, knowing how stir crazy the Heavy would get having to just lie there. But when night fell, he returned to his room, still not at all happy about the day's events. He'd almost let his Heavy die because he let wasn't paying enough attention. The BLU Pyro got too close, blasted him apart from his Heavy in the midst of their battle in BLU territory. That was around the time that their Scout went missing too.

The RED Medic took a shower, attempting to clear his mind. They had another mission in a few days, he needed to focus on getting the Heavy better and to recollect himself before the next mission. The German was too distracted to notice his room's door opening all by itself before shutting with a small click. He had no knowledge that another was sitting in his room as he returned with a towel around his waist, fumbling around to retrieve his glasses off of his dresser where he had left them. The room was bare, a small bed and a dresser were the only furniture items in it along with an overhead light that the Medic chose to leave off, letting the light from the bathroom illuminate the room as he fumbled about to retrieve his clothing. He didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching him.

It was only when arms wrapped about his body that Medic became aware that someone was there. "Mon ami," he felt the hot breath against his ear, "You are very tense.." That French accent, it was thicker than normal. Medic relaxed against the Spy, shutting his eyes. "You look troubled.." the Frenchman continued, lips pressing against the German man's jaw, nudging the flesh with his masked nose.

These encounters had become commonplace for the Medic and the Spy. It was why the Medic denied himself the pleasure of admiring Heavy. Whether or not the Spy considered him as a lover as well was unknown to the Medic. Perhaps the Spy had just started coming to him for physical comfort. It did get lonely after all, and perhaps that was why the Medic didn't refuse the Spy or question the other man's intentions with this 'relationship.' He turned around, watching as the Spy uncloaked. The man didn't have a cigarette in his mouth, but that was only because of the nature of his visit. He had better things to do, such as pressing his lips against the Medic's, his tongue winding into the other man's mouth. "Perhaps I should 'elp you..relax," he breathed out after ravaging the Medic's mouth. The German man only managed to nod in response. "Mon beau, you 'ave been spending too much time with ze morbidly obese pig today," the Spy murmured, unhappily as he tugged at the towel about his Medic's waist. It only took two fingers to loosen it and the towel fell quickly to the ground, leaving the Medic feeling quite bare in front of his still dressed Spy.

He pushed the Medic down toward the dresser, ignoring, the Medic's cries of disapproval: "But ze bed is right over zhere!"

-**Author's Note**-

This is my first fanfic in forever. But oh my gosh, even before I started playing TF2 last week I fell in love with its characters and whatnot (thanks to Halolz).

I totally ship Heavy and Medic. Mostly because I don't want to play anything but Medic most of the time haha. Where's my Heavy? But I quite like Spy and Medic too.. mmm. The Spy is a dashing rogue!

Sorry if the accents are a little off, I'm not used to writing them in.

I'd really appreciate reviews! Thanks :D Perhaps I will get back into writing fanfictions depending on how this goes over.. This will not be a oneshot!..unless there's no interest in it haha -_-;;

And gosh, it was hard finding a title for this.  
Anyone want to be my beta reader for the future of this story?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**:

_Fitsgibbons_: Ah! Thank you so much! I noticed the lack of Heavy/Medic stories and it made the Medic inside of me sad. Haha yeah I thought I'd add a twist to it with the Spy :D

-Chapter 2-

The next day Medic found himself back down in the medical bay, spending time with his Heavy despite the paper work he had to do. How could he pay attention to his work when his best friend was sitting there wounded? It's not like he had much to do, just paper work and just checking up on his medigun to make sure it was in top shape for the next skirmish.

"Scout has not returned," Medic told Heavy, sitting on a bed beside Heavy's, watching the man toying with everything within his reach—his pillows, his blankets, the table beside his bed. It was so boring just sitting there all day doing nothing! Even talking to Medic didn't help that much.

The Russian man glanced up at Medic, frowning for a moment before, moving the table some more, as if it was not in the right exact spot. What else was he supposed to do? "Babies on the BLU team will not kill our quick little man," he said before laughing at the thought of them being able to kill their scout. The RED team was the best! Even if they had lost their intelligence yesterday, they would prevail in the next battle. The Medic just needed to stay positive, but he knew his friend had trouble with such things. "It will be okay, Doktor," Heavy said, looking Medic in the eyes. After a moment he shifted about in the bed, giving the doctor as much space as possible before patting the tiny area that wasn't occupied by his body. The Medic looked at Heavy for a moment as if he were crazy before huffing and heaving himself off of the bed, moving over to sit on the edge of the other one. With Heavy's large physique, there wasn't much room for him, but he made do. And without any notice the Heavy wrapped his arms around the German man, smiling quite satisfied as the German slumped against, him relaxing. That anxious, uneasy look even seemed to ease off of his face as he sat there.

"Ze Soldier vants to yell at us soon," Medic said, glancing at the clock on the wall, remembering the 'briefing' that the Soldier had set up for that day. But everyone knew he was going to just yell at them for their poor performance the day before, threaten them if they failed again and most likely call them maggots a few times. No, it wasn't something he was looking forward to at all. But Heavy just kept a hold of him, not commenting on the meeting. He didn't have to go! Maybe he could pretend to be dying (he'd heard enough of BLUs die, surely he could imitate them!) so his Medic wouldn't have to go either. Yes, it was the perfect plan!

He nudged the doctor with one of his meaty fingers, grinning and asking, "Doktor, I think my stitches have ripped."

Frowning, Medic shifted about to check over each and every bandage to see if Heavy was right. "Nein," he concluded, not picking up on the Heavy's plan, "I vill go now, herr Heavy." It would only incur more wraith from the Soldier for him to be late; naturally he'd get an earful for letting that BLU Pyro blast him away from his Heavy.

"But.." the Heavy said, face falling as he watched his doctor leaving, "Doktor.." He sighed, laid back down, shifting about on the bed to get comfortable. It was lonely in there without his doctor. Even when Medic was doing paperwork and not speaking with him, at least he was there. It wouldn't have been the same if anyone else had been there either. His Medic was better than the ones from before..

Moments after it had shut, the door was opened and shut once again. Heavy looked up, hoping to see his Medic again, but he didn't see anything. "I spy with my little eye," he murmured, frowning unhappily as he looked around, wondering where the masked man was—and whether he was friendly or not.

"Bonjour," the Frenchman drawled out, startling the Heavy. He was a quick little bunny too! He hadn't expected the Spy to be so close, but as the smoke filled the air around him, all he saw was the RED masked man's face inches from his own, that knife of his pressed against Heavy's neck.

The Heavy opened and closed his mouth before asking, "Wha--?"

The Spy shook his head, patting Heavy's lips with the flat side of his blade to shush him before returning the knife to the Heavy's neck, "Now, 'Eavy, you 'ave been distracting our Medic. 'E 'as gotten no work done today.." He nodded toward the desk and Heavy glanced over there as well, grunting. He didn't ask Medic to stop working to entertain him! "Ze Medic is your friend, non?" he asked.

"Da.." the Russian man answered, not exactly sure what was going on. All he knew was that his own spy had a knife to his neck! If only he had Sasha there, then the little man wouldn't have dared cross him. But the Spy was a sneaky man.

The Frenchman continued on, "And nozing more zan zat?" He rose an eyebrow under his red mask, watching the Heavy intently.

"What?" Heavy asked, not sure what the Spy meant. It was only when the man repeated the question, pressing the knife harder against his skin, that Heavy understood. "No.. nothing more.." he said as quietly as anyone had ever heard a Heavy speak.

Spy murmured something along the lines of "Bon" as he stepped away, playing with that watch of his to turn invisible. A disembodied voice ordered, "Keep it zat way."

It's not that Heavy hadn't thought of the possibility before. He certainly liked his doctor more than the other medics they had had in the past. His heart had fluttered the first time he saw Medic—which resulted in Heavy started calling for him instantly, thinking he was having a heart attack. But.. Medic saw him as just a friend, he was sure. He wasn't a.. 'dashing rogue' as the Spy often referred to himself as. No, he was a giant that people seemed to think was a little slow in the head. Why would his beloved Medic want him? Not when there was a better candidate. What he had feared before, the Spy was much more viable—he was a little man, charming and crafty—and that threat just confirmed his fears. But how could his Medic be with such a deceitful little man? More importantly, why hadn't his Medic told him? They were closer than anyone else in the base! Did his doctor not trust him to keep a secret? Just because he was loud didn't mean he was loud and untrustworthy with such information—unlike Scout.

Shifting about Heavy sat up, setting his feet on the ground to wander about the medical wing aimlessly. Thinking things over, he couldn't help but feel aimless and troubled. The Spy was not good for Medic. He couldn't _love_ him—the Spy only loved himself! But Heavy never lied when he said he loved his doctor.

-**Author's Note**-

I really, really appreciate reviews, guys! Just let me know that you liked it (or what you don't like about it, constructive criticism is appreciated too) or whatever. Thanks :)

And once again, if anyone wants to be a beta reader for me, let me know! I'd really appreciate it too, since I don't tend to reread it until it's uploaded.

Also, I start back up at my school on Friday (dumbest. day. ever. to start back up) in which case I might not be able to update so quickly then. But I'm only taking 15 hours as opposed to 17 like last semester. OTL And most of these classes shouldn't be that difficult.. hopefully. hah..hah.. ._.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**:

_cheetana_: Ah, thank you so much! I am always worrying about how I'm portraying them. I really don't like when fanfictions are OOC—it seems more like some strange whim of a fangirl rather than something that could actually happen is probably why. Ah, really? That's good, I'm glad the accents are passable. I looked up how to fake a French accent for it (and every time I type what the Spy is saying I have an urge to watch Blackadder the Third..the episode with the French revolutionary. That show was great..) haha. And I'll probably be looking up Russian and German ones too, but I also listened to a lot of the sound clips of them talking and whatnot.. I really appreciate your review! And thank you for being my beta!

_Goldenphoenix3000_: thank you! I'm really trying to get the characters right. I hate reading a fanfiction where the characters are all OOC. ..which is also why I pull a lot of the lines from what they say in game hahah. I don't get it, people tend to overlook my stuff a lot on FP too OTL but then again there I don't really read other people's stories.. but here I do. Oh well. Eventually, maybe, people will start reading it… hopefully hahah. Maybe I should change the description of it… I never was good at those. Thank you so much, I really do try!

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, but at the beginning I respond to reviews (as shown in last chapter and above). I really appreciate you guys taking the time to review, so please do! Reviewing is literally what keeps my stories going. Your interest keeps me interested. :D

-Chapter 3-

"Get behind me, doktor!" Heavy called out, upon hearing that Medic was fully charged. He couldn't shake that encounter with the Spy from his memory, but they were in a war. He was used to the threat of dying. But he was pretty sure he could kill anyone who thought of trying to kill him first. It wasn't that that bothered him. It wasn't even the Spy's lack of fear—everyone feared Heavy! He was Heavy weapons guy. Were they blind, could they not see Sasha? It was definitely the Spy's relationship with Medic that... troubled the Russian man. Before he had been... simple. He ate, slept and killed. What more could a man want? Oh yes, he loved life out here. Whether the war was for a good cause or not, whether he was on the wrong side or not, Heavy loved his job. It was the reason he got out of bed in the morning.

Issues with sexuality hadn't really plagued Heavy ever. He was a simple man. Eat, sleep, kill. That had been enough to make him happy. It barely registered in his mind; it had been a click somewhere in the back of his mind, past his cravings for sandviches, past schedule of cleaning, inspecting and doing maintenance on Sasha and Natascha, past his blood-lust, even past his nostalgia for mother Russia—way back there something clicked. His feelings for Medic weren't normal, but he attributed it to the Medic being his friend, not that he was in love. He didn't have time for love. However, some days when Soldier was yelling at Scout in a meeting for interrupting him or something of the sort... he would notice how nice his hair looked that day, how soft it looked, how tired his friend appeared. And all he wanted to do was to hold his friend—that was when he realized it wasn't normal. The daydreams got worse at times, to the point where all he wanted to do was confess to the doctor his feelings, and have his friend console him. Perhaps that part wasn't thought through so much.

There was one thing Heavy had known. The Medic had had a wife. A very womanly wife with all the lady parts attached. They'd even had children—though the children were grown up by now, according to Medic—which could only mean that they had been _intimate_. In Heavy's mind, there was no way that the woman would cheat on Medic; the man was too wonderful for that. If he should die, he would be the only person Heavy would ever mourn from his team. He loved his doctor! And yet, his doctor had been married to a woman. The thought of it made Heavy want to punch some itty bitty men. He had no chance to express his feelings to Medic without his heart being crushed. Up until that point Heavy had only thought that his heart was meant to pump blood; meeting the Medic had changed that. Oh, how his heart ached whenever he thought of his doctor as only ever being his friend.

Before then falling in love had been for everyone else; he had been sure he would never be so silly as to let such a weak emotion in... and yet there he stood on the battlefield, a physical shield to the man he loved, as bullets flew from both sides. He could feel the power that the medigun gave him; he felt invincible. However, Heavy knew all too well that he was far from invincible unless he was ubercharged. He didn't understand the medigun or the physics behind it, all he knew was it healed him constantly, made the damage less noticeable—all so he could kill the other team for longer. And he loved it.

Seeing a scout on the far side, trying to make his way over, Heavy directed his aim at the boy, laughing heartily as he heard the other call out in pain. "Cry some more!" he called out, his voice amazingly loud enough to be heard over his minigun's constant noise as it spewed bullets. The BLU Pyro lay on the other side, a victim to both Heavy and the Sniper, the latter finishing off the weakened Pyro when he had gotten out of range from Heavy. Today was a good day, he could tell. He would stuff the other team so full of lead they'd be more metal than flesh. At the very least he would kill someone else.

Killing the BLUs would keep his mind off of the day before. Off of the fact that he had been completely wrong about Medic. But why would the Medic choose that weasel of a Spy? It was infuriating! He didn't care about how charming he was or handsome he must have been under that mask; the Spy was a slippery man. He was a backstabber. It would only lead to the Spy hurting his beloved doctor. Then again, he knew he was jealous; jealous of the time the Spy and Medic must have spent alone together, whatever they did together. He got jealous when the Medic healed someone else, calling for him even when he didn't need the healing. Perhaps that was why Medic hadn't told him about such an affair. But he had a right to know! Didn't he?

He growled, half in annoyance over the subject, half in annoyance that the BLU Soldier rocket-jumped out of his way. That man was quick and tricky! Were all soldiers bat-shit insane? How could rocket-jumping possibly be safe? He'd seen soldiers killing themselves doing that before. "Run, coward!" he called out after the BLU Soldier who seemed to be retreating.

The day before he had been lying in the bed, doing nothing while the Soldier held his little meeting. They had been planning an attack in a few days—only the BLUs had decided that today was better, apparently—and.. whatever else went on in those meetings. Heavy mostly found himself thinking about three things: Sandvich, Sasha and why the Medic looked so tired that day. He didn't take anything away from those meetings when he was at them—no, he knew his job. Shoot any BLU that moved. It was pretty simple. The fact that he wasn't there didn't make much of a difference really. It left him alone, though, with nothing to do. If only Medic were there, he could at least watch him as he worked...

_But now he sat there, alone. The bare walls, the ticking of the clock, the rough sheets… it was all too much. He was back up within a few minutes, walking around as he had right after the Spy had left, but soon even that was tiring and he was back down on the bed, closing his eyes. Maybe he could just sleep his way to being discharged. It was possible to sleep for that long right? If it had been any other person telling him to rest for a few days he would have just disregarded what they said... but it was Medic who told him. _

_He didn't know how long he had laid there, but when Heavy opened his eyes he heard a cart rolling towards the room. His heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. Was it an itty bitty cart with a bomb on it? He loved those carts—but only when he was pulling one to the other base. But before he knew it he saw the Medic rolling just a regular cart in with something he knew and loved. _

"_Sasha!" _

He glanced around, hearing a muffled voice. And suddenly the medigun was cutting out, its rays not on him. Perhaps the RED Pyro needed help, but he saw Pyro just standing there, not looking hurt at all and was actually charging toward something... someone behind him. He turned around, seeing his Medic on the ground and a Spy quickly cloaking. He shot at the masked man, but the other was already gone. "Oh this is bad," he said, quickly going over to Medic. The Pyro was running around, trying to set the cloaked Spy on fire, but Heavy had more important things to do. His Medic was not allowed to die on him. And luckily Medic seemed to be staggering to sit up. Pyro must have tipped off Medic about that Spy—he'd have to thank Pyro later—causing that BLU bastard to miss as the Medic moved to look. Otherwise his little man would not be moving at all. What a relief.

"Medic," he called out, shifting to hold Sasha with one hand and extending the other to his Medic. They were in BLU territory and they most certainly had to get out quickly for Medic to have any chance of surviving. So without thinking, once he had the Medic close enough, Heavy heaved the man onto his shoulder making a break for their side. As much as he loved killing BLUs, he wanted his doctor alive and so he ran as fast as he could—which, admittedly, was still slower than when the Engineer took a stroll around behind the sentries—aiming to get himself and his Medic back to their base alive. That was more important than some stupid briefcase.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

_D_: I love Heavy/Medic too! I need a Heavy to my Medic for when I cosplay as him at Animazement in May... Ahaha I can't answer that, you'll just have to read ;D Thank you! Yes of course I plan to finish it, don't worry (: I mean, unless people lose interest in it then I will too… but let's hope that doesn't happen.

_Goldenphoenix3000_: Ahaha no, I haven't but I'm glad I can remind you of something so awesome :D I so need to catch up on Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged. I totally have the "This looks like a job for limey man" shirt! But it was defective or something so a lot of it is worn off. I'll have to catch up on that after I'm done watching all the Red vs Blue episodes. Ahaha I know I imagine Heavy as a big teddy bear that loves to shoot people. Okay, maybe that came out wrong. But he's just so happy all the time! You can't help but love him. Or at least I can't help but love him.

You'd think after living in North Carolina for over half of my life I'd have a better grasp of how to fake a southern accent… Sorry if Engie's accent is a little off. Or if he sounds like Demoman?

I was having some medical… issues, and school work was crazy and No More Heroes 2 came out so my time went down the drain. Sorry!

So, I know the Russian word for "no" is technically spelled net but it sounds more like nyet/niet and because you'll think he's just saying "net" I'll be spelling it nyet. (:

-Chapter 4-

Getting stabbed in the back doesn't feel like the usual slicing or jabbing that occurs when one cuts their finger or pokes oneself with a needle. No, it knocked the wind out of Medic, like someone had just rammed their fist into his back with all their strength. Even if the BLU Spy hadn't put that much force against it, it felt like that. And then as he fell onto the ground, it didn't really feel like anything. _My body is going into shock_ the Medic told himself, slowly thinking about all the processes that were involved. He didn't even notice himself staggering upward, taking his friend's hand or when Heavy had hefted him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. It was truly an out of body experience, someone else was in control as he calculated how long he would survive without treating the wound, whether or not he could have hit any major veins, arteries or, God forbid, his organs. The Spy certainly had missed his heart; he had felt the blow much lower than that. It was almost as if he hadn't even been aiming for it in the first place! But that was absurd…

"Aggh... Heafy... " he murmured, his accent thicker, trying to wrestle his way out of the man's arms, saying that he could walk. But Heavy would hear none of it. His Medic was wounded and he would not rest until he got him... to someone who knew medicine. Why didn't they carry more than one medic? It was like their company didn't really want them to live… After a while Medic stopped squirming, saving his energy as he was carried away to the safer confines of their base.

After he had been sat down in the medical bay, the doctor instructed Heavy: "Get Engineer." The only other person he'd trust to do any medical procedure was that man. He seemed to be the only person with any bit of sense—other than his beloved Heavy, but admittedly Heavy wasn't always the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to things such as this. Heavy was a big, killing machine. He was a kind man to his friends, a horrifying monster to his enemies. Heavy didn't need to know about all the inner workings of bodies or how to sew them back up when they were torn apart—it was laughable imagining Heavy holding in his hands those tiny instruments, attempting to stitch pieces of skin back together. Engineer had a steady hand, a keen eye; he was a problem solver, as he called himself. He was the man for the job.

The Russian man looked at Medic for a moment, not wanting to leave his friend all alone but he tore himself away, knowing it was for the better. The Engineer was a smart man, not as smart as his doctor, but still quite smart. He'd be able to help Medic! It didn't take long to find the Engineer by a dispenser, behind his sentry gun or to convince him to come back. Of course, Heavy's style of convincing was to grab the man by the neck and pull him along back to where Medic was. He stopped in surprise when he saw that Medic had disrobed from the waist up, but he shook it off. Medic had been stabbed in the back, it was because he needed Engineer to get a good view. However it did not escape Heavy to admire the man for a moment as he released Engineer. He knew Medic wasn't the youngest man ever, he spoke of how his children were all grown up now and he could see the graying of the ends of Medic's hair. But none of that made him any less beautiful of a man. The Medic was a disciplined man, naturally he wouldn't let himself be unhealthy in any way—but then again, Medic was always running about with the them. Only Scout was faster than the man. It's not as if Medic had a bulging six pack or anything of that sort, but there was much to admire about his form.

And Heavy hated to tear his eyes away but he couldn't be caught staring at his Medic when he was so... vulnerable, even if the other two weren't paying him any attention. Engineer was busy describing what he saw to Medic while cleaning it off as he was instructed. "Go to my desk, zhere is a bottle of superglue," the doctor informed him.

"Are ya suggestin' I glue ya up?" Engineer asked in surprise, stepping around to get a good look at the Medic's face. The German smirked—it was that disconcerting smirk he got when he saw someone who was in bad condition, as if their pain was a present he was so ready to unwrap.

He shifted about on the table, pointing to the desk and saying, "Ja."

"Nyet! Doktor needs stitches," Heavy said, moving closer to his doctor, "Glue is not good."

Patting Heavy's hand, Medic shook his head. "Zhis is just a baby cut," he said, explaining in terms he was sure Heavy would understand, even as he heard Engineer snort when he said it was only a cut, "Superglue vas originally made for armies to use instead of stitches." It would be fine, it was as if the BLU Spy had barely put any weight into it at all—but that was just dumb. He surely had just been thrown off by the Medic's sudden movements as he was striking. "Apply it efenly and… generously," Medic said as the Engineer returned with the bottle of superglue. He sighed quietly, gritting his teeth as the Engineer applied the liquid, his hand which still rested upon Heavy's clenching against the Russian man's own. It wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world, but it was better than trying to train the Engineer how to do stitches and hoping they held and had been done properly. It would be fine, really. He had thought it all over in his head as he had been carried there, and it had only been confirmed by Engineer; the wound wasn't as serious as it could have been… it wasn't as serious as it should have been. "Danke, herr Engineer," he said as the other finished with the procedure. He would just have to be careful with his movements... and take some medicine. He'd be fine...

Tipping his hardhat, Engineer moved to the doors to get back to his sentries only to have to step out of the way as another pair made their way in. "Spah!" he said in surprise as he saw the red clad man walking in, but it was the boy he had in his arms that surprised him more, "Well I'll be damned.."

"Gentlemen," the Spy greeted as he gently laid Scout down on a bed, looking over at Medic, the concern on his face hidden by his mask, "I found 'im in our intelligence room as I was returning from capturing ze BLU's intelligence…" He brushed Scout's hair out of his face. His hat and earpiece were missing, but that was the least of their concerns.

Medic was quickly on his feet, murmuring, "Oh mein Gott…" Most of Scout's wounds were bruises and scratches, nothing that time couldn't heal on its own easily enough, but it was his leg that scared Medic. He could actually see through Scout's tattered and torn pants the bone pressed up against the skin, threatening to peek out at any second. "No vonder he did not return.." he murmured as he ran his fingers across the leg, feeling around as best as he could. By the smell of him, Scout had been stuck in the sewers since he had gone missing—had he fallen horribly wrong on his leg, swam in there and crawled onto a surface, hoping for them to find him? He must have been in incredible pain during that time. The boy was a lot stronger than he had ever imagined. "He is alive," he said, grateful for at least that, "Unconscious, but alive." The boy certainly wouldn't be able to run around any time soon. He was grateful Scout was not awake as he set the bone back into place, not wanting to cause him any more pain than he had already dealt with. Sure, he loved seeing the other team in pain, but his own team was a different story.

"It seems 'e was returned to us," the Spy said hesitantly, "By a BLU." He had been able to account for everyone else's whereabouts, and no one on their team would just leave him lying around the intelligence room. The Soldier might have just dumped the boy off in the base the second he set foot in there, but he wouldn't have dropped him all the way in _there_. And anyone else would have brought the boy to Medic's attention as quickly as possible.

The Engineer reached under his hardhat, scratching as his head as he considered Spy's statement. "Now why would they go 'n do a thing like that?" he asked, trying not to pay attention to the Medic as he worked quickly on Scout—or that the boy was only clad in underwear at that point as the Medic had undressed him to get his work done.

Taking a cigarette out, Spy glanced at Medic, refraining from lighting it. The last time he had done that Medic had given him the cold shoulder. "Our intelligence remains in place as well," he stated, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. It just felt right to have it there, even if it wasn't lit.

"Are you sure it was BLU?" Heavy asked, remaining where he was, trying to retain the tingling feeling he had from where Medic's hand had been placed moments before. The little man did not look good, in Heavy's opinion, but he had faith in his doctor—Scout would be running around as good as new before long!

The Frenchman glanced at Heavy for a moment, his expression hard to read as he took the cigarette back out, holding it between two fingers as if it were actually lit, "Oui." He glanced between Engineer and Heavy, flicking at the end of his cigarette thoughtfully. "Euh… we will 'ave to defend until ze BLU team gives up for ze day.." he stated, his meaning obvious. Heavy and Engineer looked at each other before they both left, wordlessly knowing it was their job to defend their items. "Medic.." Spy said quietly, his tone gentler, more concerned than before, "What 'appened?" He set the cigarette back in its place as he moved behind the doctor, running a gloved finger down his back, near the affected area.

"It vas a Spy," Medic stated, concentrating more on setting Scout's leg, treating his other wounds, and hooking him up to an IV to administer the medicine he would need. Spy grumbled at the comment, frowning. That other Spy was good—he knew all too well. Not that he wasn't grateful, but his Medic should not have been alive if that Spy truly had attacked him—even if the Medic had started moving right as the BLU was in a lunge.

-**Author's Note**-

I play Scout second most after Medic, I think. And then maybe Demoman. What about you guys?

Also I am waiting for my Medic (Halolz) shirt. The anticipation is killing me. At least I got my TF2 posters in.

And I totally rock out to songs made out of "Bonk" and other phrases by the Scout, Heavy or Spy when writing these chapters if you were wondering. I'm sure you weren't.

Anyway, please review! I'd really appreciate it (:


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**:

_D._: oh wow! That's dedication! That really means a lot to me :D Haha you'll see why soon enough. Probably not this chapter though. I must admit I ship both Heavy/Medic and Medic/Spy but I ship the first pair…more? Ah, thanks. It's harder for me to get some of the other characters down, like Engie, which is partially why they don't really appear. Yeah? I'm really bad at playing as Heavy. I love him, but I fail at playing him. And I get kind of annoyed with his speed sometimes. But I'm a pretty good Medic most of the time. And I like following Heavy around as Medic because he's so slow :D I never lose him! …unless I lag. But then I find him again two seconds later!

_goldenphoenix3000_: I did too! And then I got it and was sad to see that the shirt quality wasn't that good, but I think it was just a defective shirt. My boyfriend at the time bought it for me…and pretty soon after he was my ex so I couldn't send it back to get a new one sadly. Ah, thank you so much! I think my style is too choppy and gross. Blegh. But I do like writing! Hahaha you'll see soon enough. :D I'm awful at Scout on the 360. On the computer though, I own as Scout. I..don't know why. I'm getting better at playing Scout on the 360. I've totally got a sequel/prequel (it'll kinda..be both?) to this, which centers around him. Oh man I am the worst Pyro ever! Well, on the 360, I dunno about the compy, haven't tried him on there. I'm also a pretty shitty Soldier. I have moments where I'm the best Demoman ever and moments where I am the worst Demoman ever. I wish I would make up my mind and be consistent. I'm getting a lot better at Sniper. I've played him..twice now. But you should try the other classes! You can have a dance party when you're an Engie ;D …that's what I do when I'm not hitting my sentry with my wrench. I just dance next to the intelligence whether or not there's another Engie with me.

_The Shock of the Dawn_: :D I'm happy you're happy! Oh yeah? Pyro seems like it would be fun to me, but I'm really bad at it so I just get frustrated… I get frustrated with Heavy's speed, too, so I tend not to play him haha. Ahh thank you so much! It's hard for me to believe people like this so much, especially since I decided to write it on a whim when I realized there was far too little Heavy/Medic stuff on here (and I'm not even at the Heavy/Medic part yet ahah oops)... but I really appreciate it!

By the way, the second Scout wakes up the rating to this will be going up for obvious reasons (he has a potty mouth. Someone needs to wash it out with soap, any volunteers?). SCOUT, YOU RUIN EVERYTHING. I still love him though…

I didn't mean take so long developing the story. I really did mean to get right to Heavy/Medic... oh well. I think it's because I like Spy/Medic too. And I hate when things are rushed. There needs to be development!..and stuff. Yeah.

Also, **sorry it took so long to update**! I can only write on weekends, really, because of all my school work. I'm trying to get chapters out between once a week or every two weeks. But if I'm not that quick (as with this chapter) it's just because I'm rather busy. I have no life. That's partly why it took me a while to get this chapter out. I also have a beta reader (everyone thank Cheetana, the quality is a lot better because of her!) so I don't post it the second I finish, either. One of my weekends to write was cut out completely, as well, because I had to go home to get glasses (I can see again! Amazing!) and to get my desktop computer (I can play TF2 on the comp now! Amazing!).

-Chapter 5-

That night Medic lay in one of the few beds he had in the infirmary. He was partly there because of being a patient himself, but also to watch over Scout. There were a few other more serious issues than just his leg that he hadn't spotted on his first glance over. The boy had taken a few bullets at some point—which, honestly, wasn't all that surprising; Medic had lost count of how many slugs he'd pulled out of Scout in the short time he'd been stationed here. It was like he was made to get shot. At least he wasn't in a coma; that would have been annoying to keep up with—changing bed sheets and giving sponge baths wasn't what Medic had signed up for. All the bloody wounds from bullets and knives alike and burn wounds were what he had been interested in when he joined. And seeing all the wonderful scarred bodies was well worth it. He'd satisfied more of his morbid curiosity here than at any hospital he could have worked at.

The beds were about as comfortable, or more appropriately uncomfortable, as the ones in their rooms. Yet Medic couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was the pain in his back, maybe Scout was lingering in his mind, either way he didn't stay in that bed for long. Even if he enjoyed his work, it was rather… tiring at times. It seemed like the war would never end—once one person died, they were replaced shortly. That's how it worked for both teams. Though if there was someone who didn't get tired of it all, he was certainly Heavy. That man took so much joy in his killing; Medic couldn't help but admire how cheerful yet sadistic the man truly was. At the very least, Heavy livened things up with his comments in the monotony of the battlefield. Heavy was truly a good friend; Medic had lost count of how many times Heavy had saved him or how many of the other team Heavy had wounded and killed. It seemed the BLU team had a much higher death rate because of his friend.

After Medic got up, it didn't take him long to go for the medigun, aiming its healing rays at Scout. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well get some work done. They needed Scout up and running about as quickly as possible, but he knew even with the medigun's help with a break that bad in his leg, Scout wouldn't walk let alone run for a while. It wasn't that he wanted to get the boy healed simply because they needed his speed but also because Scout would just be a nuisance once he was up. There was no way he'd get any work done while he was there. Nevertheless, it was strange how he managed to stay slumbering through everything. That IV connected to him wasn't to sedate him, after all. It was bothersome but he wasn't about to attempt to wake up the other, wanting to savor the peace and quiet as long as possible.

He had his back to the door, leaning against a bed as he watched Scout, holding the medigun up to heal him. Even now he couldn't help but think about how his wife would have been impressed with his improved physique. The medigun wasn't exactly light and he had to keep up with the others on the field. But dwelling on such thoughts wouldn't bring her back. It had been a happy marriage, faithful until the end. It had devastated the man when his wife passed from something as simple as a brain aneurysm. Such a wonderful woman deserved a much more majestic death. Nevertheless, she would have been quite pleased to know that he hadn't let himself go, at the very least. And that was a comforting thought.

But Medic never would have let himself go. He was too disciplined for that. Even now he was blocking out the ache in his back that had been intensified by holding his equipment. Letting it get to him wasn't an option, he had a job to do. Concentrating too hard, he didn't even notice as the door behind him opened.

"Amour," the words rolling off of Spy's lips as he sidled up beside Medic, "You should be resting, non?"

Medic shifted uneasily at being caught by Spy like a child with his hand in the cookie jar, but he just snorted, replying, "I couldn't sleep." It wasn't even _that_ late. "Vhy aren't you in bed?" he retorted, glancing sideways at the Spy who shrugged lazily.

"'Eavy and Demoman are making quite a ruckus in ze kitchen," he said, hoisting himself up to sit on the bed, "I believe your piglet 'as discovered ze wonders of whiskey."

The stream in the medigun sputtered out as Medic shut the gun off, looking sternly at Spy. It was an expression he had learned to use when scolding his children over the years. "Do not call him zhat, herr Spy," he said firmly before turning the gun back on, resuming his work.

"But zey 'ave an uncanny resemblance," he teased quietly. He expected Heavy to grow a tail and his nose to turn into a snout any day now. He even sounded like a little piggy when eating his sandwiches. How could Medic not see the connection? But Medic refused to say anything in response, and with that look on his face Spy knew he had overstepped his bounds. It was definitely time to change the subject lest Medic stop speaking to him altogether for insulting his friend—he knew Medic loved Heavy more than he would ever care for him. "Sorry," he murmured begrudgingly, wrapping his arms around Medic, deciding to change the subject, "I was worried about you today."

At this rate he wasn't going to get anything done, and so Medic just turned the medigun off, setting it down as he replied, "I am fine. It vas just a scratch..." Perhaps that was underplaying it a little bit, but it wasn't serious enough to have someone worry about him.

"No," Spy replied, kissing Medic, "You are lucky..."

Medic smiled, leaning into the other's embrace. "Perhaps. But I am vell and alive, zhere is no need to worry," he said firmly, kissing Spy again. It lingered in the back of his mind that Scout might wake up any moment, but he didn't really think about the possibility of any one else walking in on them. The members of the team seemed to have an aversion to the medical wing, which was quite all right with Medic—he liked the peace and quiet. However, the thought of the others finding out didn't seem that troublesome when he thought about it, really. They wouldn't have to jump through hoops to hide their relationship—in fact he wasn't even sure why they were hiding it. Then again, Medic wasn't even completely sure Spy considered what they had a relationship. The man was so hard to read sometimes, but Spy had been worried about him and that was all Medic could truly ask for.

With some encouragement from Spy, Medic laid back down in the bed, quite happy to lie there now that he had Spy beside him. Scout could wait. His wife had died years ago and he'd never been in a relationship with anyone since. But Spy was the one who changed all that. With one little kiss stolen from him, Medic let himself be happy again. Ten years he had tortured himself mentally, always wishing to be with his wife. It was his lack of concern for his own well-being that had led Medic to sign up for the RED army. In killing others he had learned to live again. He couldn't help but think about what his life had been like only months before. It was a vast improvement to say the least. Lying there in each others arms, Spy, for once, not pushing for anything further.

"Get some rest, amour," Spy murmured, kissing Medic's forehead, only to hear the door crashing open.

Moments before Heavy had been sitting with Demoman, sharing a bottle of Scrumpy. Having his Medic so close to death that day had naturally shaken up Heavy and Demoman was quite happy to listen to his woes. By the point when Heavy was noticeably intoxicated, they had both come to the conclusion that all Medic needed was a well made sandwich. Together they made a decadent sandwich, one that Heavy most certainly wanted to eat himself. It was beautiful! And it would make his Medic all better. Once it was done he had rushed down to the infirmary, throwing the doors open wide only to see Spy and Medic resting in a bed together.

"Spy!" he called out, dropping the magnificent sandwich thoughtlessly to the ground as he hurried over to the bed.

The man in question had stood up as soon as Heavy had come into view, adjusting his suit and tie. If only there wasn't a rule against killing his own teammates, it made the knife that was now in his hand rather useless. And also would Medic have forgiven him for killing the Russian man? Probably not. Even though it was self defense, Medic would always choose that lumbering oaf's side over his. And so he stood motionless as Heavy grabbed his suit and hoisted him up slightly, restraining himself even though every fiber of his being wanted to drive the knife through Heavy's flesh just for wrinkling his suit.

"Put me down," he ordered through gritted teeth, holding his knife tightly, glaring at the larger male.

Heavy returned Spy's glare, obviously working in his head what he wanted to do as he ignored Medic calling his name. Spy would have made a crack about how he could hear Heavy attempting to think or that he might hurt himself if he thought too hard, but Heavy replied, "Okay." A wicked grin set on Heavy's face, just like the one he wore every time he was about to be ubered—and that made Spy more than a little nervous. When his feet were on the ground, Spy was about to move away, not liking the expression on Heavy's face. If they hadn't been in such a tight space Spy might have been able to dodge it, but they were in between two hospital beds and he had no where to go as Heavy's fist came flying toward his face. It felt like he had been rocket-launched into a brick wall, and naturally he fell backwards upon impact, ironically hitting his head on a brick wall before slumping to the ground with an involuntary grunt.

Before he could do any more damage, Medic stepped in between the two. The look on his face made Heavy want to run away with his tail between his legs and the man's scolding did, in fact, make Heavy turn and leave. He had never run from anything in his life. Heavy had always been the man to stand and fight even if he had no idea what he was fighting for or if it was a good reason. But his Medic was upset with him, and that was enough to make Heavy return to Demoman for support... and more Scrumpy.

"Spy," Medic asked, turning away from where Heavy had been to inspect the man, "Spy?"

The masked man opened his eyes slowly, looking up at Medic. His nose was no doubt bleeding and broken and the pain in the back of his head told him he might have had a concussion. The BLUs would certainly have an advantage over their team. But none of that mattered because Medic stood up for him and he'd won the battle against Heavy for tonight at least.

"I need to look at your face, herr Spy," Medic continued on, holding out his hands to help Spy up. It hadn't seemed too strange to him that Spy had never shown him his face. The man's identity had to remain a mystery for his line of a work, to friends and foes alike. He'd done quite well at protecting his face from harm until then. With a grunt in annoyance the man looked around, nudged Scout to make sure he was still asleep before pulling the mask off, grumbling to himself about the ordeal. He fumbled around with the item in his hands, not making eye contact with Medic as the man inspected his nose. "It is most certainly broken," Medic said, trying hard not to admire Heavy's handiwork—but it was so beautiful! "I could realign it..." he said, "But vhy vould I do zhat?" Imperfections and scars where what made bodies so intriguing. He was sure Spy's face looked better the way it was now than before. He most certainly was handsome despite the blood (or perhaps it was the blood that Medic liked so much).

A sour expression came across Spy's face for a moment before he nudged Medic, "Do it. I don't want to 'ave a crooked nose." Even if people couldn't really see his face, he had dignity. It would just be embarrassing to have a crooked nose.

"But I like it zhis vay..." Medic grumbled unhappily, before he snapped the bone back into place, causing Spy to howl in pain. It hurt just as much as when Heavy had punched him the first time and Spy could feel his knees getting weak as he leaned against the bed for support. "Did zhat hurt?" Medic asked, smirking as he picked the medigun back up, "Sorry."

Spy grumbled to himself as he pulled a fresh mask out of his suit, he had to always be prepared for everything. He even had spare gloves and an extra tie inside his suit, just in case. He pulled a cigarette out, lighting it up despite his location. Medic would have to deal with it, he needed a smoke right then.

"Vhy vould Heavy do zhat?" Medic asked, as he watched a red glow surround Spy from the Medigun. He would hassle Spy about smoking down there some other time.

Frowning, Spy snickered before replying, "Because 'e loves you." He rolled his eyes. Didn't Medic realize it? But Medic's surprise showed otherwise. Perhaps it hadn't been the best thing to mention to Medic after all; Spy loosened his tie as he watched the other, a slight feeling of anxiety in the back of his mind. Maybe he had not won the battle after all.

-**Author's Note**-

Oh and in case you want to play TF2 (or other games) with me, both **my steam and gamertag are pr0nzombie **(you're just jealous you didn't think of that username first ;D). It's my username for almost everything... AIM, live, youtube, STEAM, Rooster Teeth... I don't have TF2 for the PS3. Well, my dad does... but he has the PS3 at home and I don't like PS3, sorry. On the 360 I also play Gears of War 1&2, Halo 3, Halo 3: ODST, Quake 4, and Fable II.

Leave it to Medic to wish his wife had died horribly in the most loving way possible. That man is more twisted than people realize, but I'm onto him...

Also, I just wrote a short TF2 oneshot. The idea came from that little bit I just mentioned above. It has slight Heavy/Medic in it, too. All my ideas seem to strike when I'm trying to sleep. It could be the same Medic from this story, but it's probably not. And I'm going to write a story related to that oneshot that's basically a continuation of it... with copious amounts of Scout/Soldier in it (I have a few reasons why I made that a one shot and am making another story rather than combining them, but you'll just have to trust me since I'm too lazy to share..haha) :D but I'm probably going to finish this story before I really set to work on that and publish it. I'll probably write it and the prequel/sequel (presequel?) to this at the same time... Anyway, I'd recommend reading it (then again, I'm biased) if for nothing more than a little insight into how I view Medic.

As always, reviews are highly appreciated! Thanks guys. I'm going to go play Gears of War and try not to ragequit when the berserker kills me again! (Why am I playing hardcore by myself...? Am I daft?)


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**:

_D._: Ah, thank you so much! That means a lot to me :D This Spy is too vain? Aren't all Spies rather...vain? But yes, I agree, this one isn't exactly right for Medic, though they do have their moments. Haha Spy and Engineer? That's pretty awesome. I tend to like Spy and Scout. I think I like Spy paired with anyone, really. I'm sure he could worm his way into a relationship with anyone, he's a slippery little man. Maybe you'll see in this chapter... maybe not, it might be the next. You'll just have to read and find out! How evil am I? Mwahaha… Thank you for reviewing! Hope I got this out quick enough for you!

_Blue_: Thank you :D Haha my background plot isn't much. I'm slightly reworking it in my head to see if I can do more with it (which is partly the reason why I didn't write any last weekend...). I hope I don't disappoint you... I actually did not have a plot in mind at all when I started this little project, though I am good at quickly forming the basic idea of something in my head even if I start it without having any idea where it's going to lead. That's kinda what happened here. I don't think Spy was originally going to be in it at all, but then I thought I'd make Heavy work for his Medic… didn't want it to be too easy!

_Aurore_: Sorry, it took a bit because I was busy! School work is crazy these days. Also boys tend to want to play video games with me quite often for some strange reason (apparently some of them have never met a gamer girl before… we're a rare creature like the spycrab according to guys, but I think not.) However, this chapter was pumped out in basically one night, so at least I can do something when I put my mind to it, or more so when I get off my lazy ass... And thank you! I appreciate it.

**I Love This Doktor comic?:** I was contacted about making this into a comic, which I was both flattered and shocked about (this isn't that good, is it?) and couldn't help but give Sonia(/Sony) permission to do so. It will be on Sony's deviantART page (sony-shock is her name on there) and I'll let you know when anything more happens. :) I've been shown a preview of it and I'm pretty excited; then again, I've always wanted something of mine to be turned into a comic.

The rating went up because of Scout's fucking mouth—that bastard. Oh, and I have a potty mouth too (actually, the Scout's dialogue is basically things I would say in a rather inarticulate manner with 'chucklenuts' thrown in. Because I equal Scout). If you have a problem with the F-BOMB turn away before I assail your virgin eyes some more (though I can't say I didn't warn you about when this time would come…). If you're cool with it, then, you know, carry on… maggot!

-Chapter 6-

Spy knew he shouldn't have said it, but he couldn't undo it either. He rested a hand on Medic's shoulder, not knowing what to say; he couldn't read Medic right then. To say the least, Medic looked both uncomfortable and lost in thought at the same time. Spy shifted about, pulling the little, metal ashtray he kept inside his suit pocket—a good spy was prepared for anything— to rest his cigarette in, setting the items back on the bed.

"Medic?" he asked, squeezing the man's shoulder gently to try and get his attention, but a distracted guttural response was the best he received. Medic was staring off at the door that Heavy had left through. He seemed to forget he was even healing Spy with the medigun. Clearing his throat, Spy shifted about, plucking his cigarette up and bring it back to his lips.

"I zhought I told you not to smoke in here, herr Spy," Medic said reproachfully, finally commenting on the cigarette, "It's a filzhy habit." He couldn't understand how half of his team went through pack after pack as if it were candy and they had an insatiable sweet tooth. Spy begrudgingly put out the cigarette on the ashtray, frowning uneasily as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. The sound of the fluorescent lights humming and Scout's heavy breathing weren't enough to diffuse the situation.

And after a the silence became too much, Medic turned off the medigun, prodding at Spy's nose for a moment carefully as Spy cringed at the touches. "I must go talk vizh Heavy," Medic said, "Try to get some rest, liebe. Your body vill do zhe rest of zhe healing."

The affectionate word did only so much to ease Spy's apprehensions. As Medic turned to leave he reached out, grasping the first thing that he could. Pulling Medic back by his tie, Spy kissed the man roughly, grunting in pain as Medic knocked into his nose. But he didn't care, he was kissing his man and that was more important than a little twinge of pain—and oh was it satisfying. How could he have even thought that Medic might leave him for that fatuous oaf. Sure, this relationship had all started on a whim of his—but once Spy made up his mind there was no changing it. Heavy wasn't going to get in his way.

"Are you happy now?" Medic asked, adjusting his own tie and glasses, slightly flushed from the experience.

"Exceptionally," Spy said with a smirk, planting a chaste kiss on Medic's lips before turning to lie in the bed, arms crossed behind his head, "You may go talk to ze fat man now." And Medic smiled, heading out of the room—pausing for a moment over the mess on the floor from the sandvich to mutter a curse about how he'd have to clean it up later.

Spy had no worries in his mind about it any longer; then again, Spy was always a confident man. But that didn't mean it wouldn't be more than illuminating to listen in on whatever conversation Medic and Heavy were to hold. He slipped out of the bed after a pause to make sure that Medic wasn't going to return quickly after forgetting something (but then again, when did Medic ever forget something? He had the memory capacity of an elephant).

But first things first, he slipped over to Scout's bed, adjusting his suit to get the wrinkles out before rifling through the boy's clothes. The first pocket was empty, but in the second one he found a small item. "Ah-ha," he murmured, a delightfully sadistic smirk appearing on his face as he pocketed the trinket, but his look faltered as he glanced back at Scout; he couldn't help but feel pity for the boy. Waiting around for his team without food or clean water and a broken leg like that must have been terribly unbearable. He fixed the blankets back around Scout, tucking him in before continuing to more pressing matters. He had a doctor to follow. Turning on his cloak and dagger watch, Spy slipped out of the room, heading toward down the long hallway.

Only, as he was moving he saw Medic walking back toward the infirmary. He looked to be in unusually high spirits. The conversation couldn't have been _that _quick and there was something off. "Merde..." he hissed under his breath, turning back around and following Medic to the doors.

He had been too slow to make it in after the other male. He reached into his jacket, pulling a stethoscope. He held one end up to the door, and one of the earpieces up to his ear as he listened in to see if he could hear anything that was going on first. However, he most certainly did not need the stethoscope as Scout, who seemed to have been quite rudely awakened, "I'll fuckin kill you all! You'll never take m--" Spy wasn't exactly sure what cut Scout off, nor did he care as he had fallen back from the sudden noise assaulting his eardrum. If breaking his nose hadn't ensured a headache for the rest of the night, this certainly had and all Spy could think to do at that moment was mutter some colorful curses as he rubbed his ear.

After the initial shock of the explosion of sound, Spy hesitantly leaned back with his ear against the door, not wanting to risk going deaf if Scout were to have another outburst. However, it didn't appear to be as such. There were some muffled conversation between the Scout and Medic. There was some shuffling about and he couldn't stand it any longer, pocketing the stethoscope and opening the door after decloaking. Clearing his throat he stepped into the room.

Medic paused in opening up a drawer at the desk, shutting it hastily, asking, "Is zhere somezhing you vant Herr Spy?" He shifted about uncomfortably, picking up with his syringe gun, unloading and loading it idly.

"Your chat wiz ze fat man was quick," he said, pulling a cigarette out and lighting up, "'Ow did zat go?"

"Ach, it vas fine," Medic stated, quite dismissive. He continued to rummage around the desk.

After a moment Spy cleared his throat, pulling a watch out of his pants pocket, "Looking for zis?" He waved the item a bit before letting it fall back into the palm of his hand, holding it in a fist.

"What the fuck are ya talkin about?" Scout cut in, shifting about "Why would he want a stupid watch, chucklenuts?"

Spy glanced at Scout, adjusting his tie as he remarked snidely, "Good to see you're doing well, Scout."

"Fuck you, man," Scout grumbled, shifting about in the bed, mumbling to himself.

Spy snorted softly, ignoring the slight pain it caused his nose, before turning back to the Medic, only to see the man pointing the syringe gun above his head. "Oh... merde..." he murmured, frozen as the other pulled the trigger. Staggering as the needle hit him, Spy dropped to the ground attempting to pull the item out of his body, but he knew that whatever Medic put in there was strong enough to knock him out with only minor contact. "Spy..." he breathed out before it all went black.

"Duuuuude," Scout said as he glanced down at the RED Spy on the floor as the BLU one took off his disguise, setting the syringe gun in its rightful place, "You knocked him OUT!" He reached down with one arm, attempting to reach out to poke the unmoving body. But his bed was too high up so his arm was just left dangling there until he straightened up as the BLU Spy approached. "So, what're ya gunna do wit 'im, BLU?" Scout asked, watching as the other crouched over the incapacitated Spy, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you're not gunna like _molest_ 'im or anythin like that, right?"

BLU stood up, frowning at Scout for a moment before leaning forward. He cupped Scout's cheek, smirking at him as asked, "Why would I do zat, amour?" He kissed Scout for a moment before going back down to retrieve his watch. "Ze 'Eavy on my team broke my ozah invisibility watch after ze battle," he stated unhappily.

"Un-freakin'-believable. Ya forgot to take it back?" Scout asked, rolling his eyes, "You spies aren't as smart as yer cracked up to be."

Chuckling, Spy rolled his eyes as he put his watch back on, "Oui. It appears we are not." He leaned forward, kissing Scout's cheek before patting the boy's thigh affectionately. He leaned down, grunting as he picked the RED Spy up before hefting him onto a bed. "Frère, you are getting quite 'eavy..." he murmured, adjusting RED's body to make it look more natural. "I must bid you adieu, Scout," he stated as he activated his newly reclaimed watch, "It is quite dangerous to be 'ere for me. Tell ze medic zat 'e 'ad a 'eadache and decided to rest or somezing."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Scout muttered unhappily, shifting about in the bed. He wasn't about to say something like 'when will I see you again?' because that was _gay_. And he most definitely wasn't gay. So what if he banged a Spy...or two in his day, that was only because there weren't any freakin girls here. Opening his mouth, unsure of what he was about to say, Scout managed to get a little squeak out as the medical bay's door opened again. "Oh… yo… what's up Medic?" he asked anxiously, not knowing whether or not BLU Spy snuck out when the door had been opened or if he was stuck in there. At least he seemed to have that annoying watch that never ran out, as long as he was standing still, if he were still in there.

-**Author's Note**-

Oh yeah, he pointed the syringe gun above the head because of how they fall. When playing medic you have to point above the head (and to the left a bit) in order to hit someone. So BLU Spy knew what he was doing when he was shooting it. Just thought I'd clarify if you were wondering because you don't play Medic often or something like that. (:

You should see the ubersaw I'm making for my Medic cosplay. It's pretty awesome. And I want to do a TF2 roleplay, contact me if you're interested? Please and thanks.

_**Here's a real author's note about the chapter (that I didn't want to put at the beginning)**_: I originally had this play out differently in my head.* But I decided to change it to make the story a lil more _sophisticated_ or somethin', I dunno don't question me, chucklehead. I think what I wanted to really mention was that Heavy and Medic's conversation will be in the next chapter, so don't worry I'm not skipping over it.

*I play the scenes out over and over and over in my head—rather than writing rough drafts, actually—sometimes to the point that I have no desire to actually write it out; also I tend to do this while trying to sleep…shit son, who 'm I trying to fool? I ALWAYS do this before going to sleep.

Ahem. That being said, Spy's jacket has EVERYTHING in it. You can get to Narnia from it. A good spy is prepared for everything. A bad spy is dead... because he wasn't prepared for everything.

_**PS I love every single one of you guys. Let's all get married and have a million kids together and give each and every one of them ridiculous names that will make them hate us for the rest of their lives—sound like a plan?... If I ever meet any of you guys, I would hit on every single one of you until you told me to stop, and I can't even promise that I'll listen.**_ _**xx –KillerLover **_(how's that for romancin'? Did I make your knees weak?)

PPS Thanks naturally to my beta, Cheetana. I pester her a lot with needless emails and make her worry for my well being by telling her about all of my ailments because I'm just that cool. So, thanks Cheetana for putting up with me :D I'd hit on you too if we ever met, lovah.

This author's note has gone on too long, so I have just one thing left to say: reviews are appreciated, babycakes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

_The Crazed Artist_: But of course, mi amour. Here's the next chapter just for you! :D And thank you so much. I'd give you a heart, but I'm pretty sure FF is against them. Also… don't go! D: I have cookies!

_Aurore_: It does! Haha It's all right :D I appreciate your review. And you're fine with words, you're just concise, unlike me. Oh gosh it's embarrassing that you know about my deviantART since I can't draw at all. But I really like your art!

**I Love This Doktor! Comic** The first part of the first chapter is up so go check it out! Now, maggots! Once again, Sony's deviantART name is Sony-Shock. And um, yeah, it's pretty amazing. I jizzed in my pants.

_**BLOG**_**:** There are so many things I want to say in these author's notes that I just end up deleting because I don't want the author's notes to take up so much space, so I made a blog on blogspot the thing you put in the URL is quadruplebypass but if you're too lazy for that, I put the link on my profile as my homepage. And I want to get to know you guys, 'cause you're awesome and TF2 and other TF2 fans make me giddy.I was going to ask you guys if you'd read it/comment/whatever but I decided to just go ahead and make it. I pimped it out TF2 style. After this I'll only be responding to reviews in my author's notes, basically.

**You can make requests on the blog as well**: certain pairings or challenges, whatevs. It's all good.

**I'll be at ANIMAZEMENT. **More information about that in my blog noted above.

-Chapter 7-

Medic was making his way out, only to feel Spy's grip on his tie, pulling him back in. He couldn't say he was that surprised. Despite his aloof demeanor at all times, he could tell Spy was not happy about the situation with Heavy at all. Medic certainly didn't know what to feel, but he did know that it was reassuring pressing his lips against Spy's, their tongues intertwining. He barely noticed that his glasses had been knocked askew in the process.

"Are you happy now?" he asked, fixing his glasses and tie distractedly. At the very least, Spy's confidence seemed to be restored. He almost wanted to lean in and kiss Spy again… and just not go talk to Heavy. But he couldn't let himself get distracted! No, he wouldn't let himself be sidetracked.

He wasn't going to pay attention to Spy's attractive little smirk or his self-assured reply, "Exceptionally." He just smiled at the kiss to his cheek, watching as Spy laid back down. "You may go talk to ze fat man now," Spy said dismissively and Medic did so without another word to Spy, only distracted a moment by the mess of sandvich on the floor, but continued on; he had business to take care of.

However, while heading toward the noisy kitchen a wave of nausea hit him. What was he supposed to say to Heavy? He almost wanted to turn back, go to sleep and deal with it in the morning, but that was just irresponsible. So, he just followed the sound of Heavy's crying—he doubted the man was actually in tears, but he did have a flair for drama. Apparently he wasn't alone, the sound of Demoman's voice could be heard attempting to sooth Heavy to no avail.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Medic adjusted his tie, clearing his throat and all he could think about was how Spy always did that. "Ach..." he murmured distractedly, reminding himself why he was there. The second he had made any noise, Heavy quieted down, but refused to look at him. Medic couldn't decide which was worse.

But Demoman cut him off before he could say anything: "Ya gone an broke the poor blokes heart, laddie."

Taking off his gloves, Medic wrung them about his hands anxiously, ignoring the squeaking they emitted. "Could you leave us alone, herr Demoman? I need to speak vizh Heavy," he said, continuing to twist the gloves about one another.

"Aye... aye..." Demoman muttered, grabbing his beloved bottle of Scrumpy and heading out of the kitchen before whispering something that Medic could only think was encouraging to Heavy into his ear before leaving.

Once Demoman was gone, Medic hesitantly approached Heavy. He reached out to touch the man's shoulder but stopping just before they made contact, hand wavering in place for a moment before he withdrew it. "Heafy," he stated, unnerved by the man's refusal to look at him. What was he supposed to do? Heavy's strength could out do him any day; he couldn't force Heavy to look at him. "Vhy?" he asked, sitting down besides Heavy. He had told Spy he was going to talk with Heavy, he might as well make an effort to do so.

"Is not good for you, doktor," Heavy said firmly, not looking up at Medic just yet. The frenchman just wasn't a good fit for him. But he loved his doctor, he understood his doctor, he was good for Medic; so why couldn't Medic see it?

Medic frowned for a moment, resting a hand on Heavy's shoulder, "Vhy?" He didn't have many issues with Spy, really, but then again he never expected much from their relationship.

"Is not," Heavy mumbled, resting his head in his hands for a moment. The words were escaping him, and if he tried to explain it in Russian Medic wouldn't understand. He shook his head, trying to form his thoughts properly, but the alcohol he had consumed earlier that night wasn't helping, "Spy is slippery little man. Not good for doktor." It was so hard to express what he wanted to say right then and when he finally looked up at Medic the man didn't seem to be grasping what he was trying to say. So he took matters into his own hands, pulling medic close and mashing his lips against the other man's, not knowing exactly what to do. He hadn't had that much practice before now, to say the least—but he did like the feeling of holding Medic, his lips against the other man's. Well, he liked it until Medic struggled a bit and let go.

Medic adjusted his glasses, standing up. "How can I take you seriously?" he asked, "You are drunk." The taste of alcohol on Heavy's lips had been less than appealing. That was what Heavy did to convince him? It was less than impressive. "You are going to have to try harder zhen zhat, Heavy," he said, exiting the kitchen. He didn't appreciate intoxicated acts of affection. If Heavy wanted him, he had to man up and face him when sober. In the mean time, he had a sandvich to clean up off of his floor and a Scout to check up on, just in case something happened in his absence.

When he got to the door, however, Medic heard voices. One was obviously Scout but Medic wasn't sure if he held positive feelings about such; on the one hand, that meant Scout was okay, but on the other it meant Scout was going to talk until Medic's ears bled before he was able to leave the infirmary. But the other voice, Medic couldn't quite place. Upon opening the door he didn't see anyone other than Scout, though.

"Oh... yo... what's up Medic?" Scout asked, after letting out a squeak in surprise, "How's it goin', doc?" He asked, looking about anxiously as if he could spot his cloaked spy.

Stepping over the remnants of sandvich on the floor, Medic moved to inspect Scout, asking, "Who vere you talking to, komerad?"

Scout rubbed the back of his head nervously, noting unhappily that his hat was still missing, "Oh, myself, I like ta keep myself busy, ya know. It's borin' down 'ere." He continued his look around the room, wondering where the Spy was.

"I zhought I heard two voices," Medic said as he rolled up scout's leg, prodding the limb with his gloved fingers ever so meticulously.

Scout shook his head, shrugging as he said, "Nah, it was jus' me man. Tired or somethin'?"

"Ja, it vas a long day," Medic said quietly, pulling Scout's pant-leg back down, "Don't put any veight on it until I tell you it's all right." He'd need to spend time healing the leg still before he felt all right letting Scout walk around, let alone run around. "How are you feeling ozher zhen zhat?" he asked, looking up at the other.

Bouncing around in his seat on the bed, Scout shrugged, "Really... rested. I musta been out for a while, huh?" He remembered BLU Spy bringing back something to help with the pain, but he didn't remember anything after that, it just got fuzzy and dark until the point where he had regained consciousness. "I got so much energy," he said with a grin, before realizing what Medic had said moments before, "H-how long 'm I gunna have ta lay around here?" He looked around, still no sign of Spy. And the door hadn't magically opened on it's own—where was the bastard? At least Medic didn't notice anything odd.

Turning away, Medic stepped aside, saying, "Anozher day or two at least. Ve vant your leg to be all healed by zhe time zhat you're in battle again." Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Scout was a valuable asset.

"Yeah, yeah," Scout muttered, slouching down in the bed like a sulking child.

As Medic was about to take care of the sandvich on the floor, he noticed a cigarette on the ground, smoldering away. It was RED's brand of cigarette, but it was no less annoying. How many times had he told Spy not to smoke in there? And he just left the item on the ground! How irresponsible. He wanted to wake Spy up just to yell at him for it, but it wasn't worth the effort. The man had a mind of his own. And so Medic picked the item up, disposing of it before he set about to cleaning up the floor from the sandvich incident. Everyone was trying his patience that day, it seemed. Scout was surprisingly quiet while he cleaned up the medical bay, but Medic figured the boy was just sulking and let it go without a second thought.

"Vould you like zhe lights on or off?" Medic asked as he moved to the doorway, intending to sleep in his room now that Scout was up. If he couldn't get any sleep when Scout was incapacitated, he'd certainly have a harder time with it if the boy was awake.

"On," Scout said, pausing, "No off. Wait on. Yeah. No. Yeah. On." He nodded his head, though he still wasn't sure if he wanted it on. If all else failed he could hop over to the light-switch on one leg and turn them off himself. "Final answer," he added, adjusting his sheets, piling them up and moving them about as if he were trying to make some sculpture out of the cloth. "Hey doc?" Medic paused in the doorway as he was about to leave, "You got any like... coloring books or somethin'?"

-**Author's Note**-

Reviews appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note:

_The Crazed Artist_: It took a bit longer than I meant for it to come out. I had finished on the 24th, after all. OTL I have more cookies :D And the weather is lovely over here. You should stay. mhmm. I know, it didn't have enough of either of the spies in it D: BLU Spy is my favorite in this story/series hah. Oh gosh do you actually speak French? I hope you aren't laughing at my pathetic attempts to add it in. I speak Japanese, but unfortunately the two languages aren't related OTL If you like either spy you should hop over to I Make It Look Easy (the pre-/sequel to ILTD) when I publish it. It has more spy-ness in it than you'll know what to do with.

_D._: Yeah, I do too :( But Medic's had a long day too; he's too exhausted to really know what to do. But it's okay, Heavy's resilient! He will survive. 'Cause he loves his doctor. Also, this was partially because of conversations I've had lately with a few different girls; we've all had experiences of guys dating someone else or whatever but telling us not to give up (which is such bull shit).

_The Shock of the Dawn_: I'm glad you appreciated that line! I was beginning to think no one noticed it ;-; and I had felt oh so clever writing it. Too bad Medic didn't think ahead and get colouring books for Scout, though! CB? Should I know what that is? -goes to urbandictionary- ohhhh. Haha. Yeah. Thanks! I appreciate it :D :D :D

_kerofish1_: Oh boy, oh boy! I love long reviews. But since my reply would have easily taken up half a page, I sent you a PM as my response. I actually got this out quicker than I thought I would!

I never really thought of them as the canon characters, and now I'm going to say officially all of these guys are OCs. And the have been named with details and history written out.. Whut. If you want to know the names, go to the blog (quadruplebypass dot blogspot dot com or link on my profile for my homepage); there's information on them there (though I did not include their history or things that I'm saving to reveal in story). I'm not going to mention it in here. Also, feel free to make requests there (in fact I'm looking for requests for one project). You'll see the status of my projects and what I plan to do in the future there and more. (:

Also, links to pics of my medic cosplay are on the blog. Shutting up now.

-Chapter 8-

When Medic left, naturally Heavy was more upset than before, but more resolute than ever. If Medic couldn't see it, then he'd have to make him see it. He nodded to himself, his mind made up as he left the kitchen to go to sleep for the night.

In the morning he was as cheerful as ever as he made his way to the kitchen, having woken up early he beat everyone to the area. Sure, they took turns on who made the meals during dinner time, but it was a free for all for the other two meals of the day. Heavy made sure to get there first, so that he wouldn't have to fight for space as he began cooking. After a while others started filtering in, but Heavy was putting his finishing touches on the meal at that point.

"Doktor," he said, grinning proudly as the man walked in, "I made you breakfast." He ushered Medic to a seat at the bench before going to grab the plate he had made—pancakes with a smiley face design on them with scrambled eggs for hair and bacon for a necklace. It was a masterpiece. He placed the plate in front of medic, quickly turning it to the face the right way before waiting to see Medic's reaction.

Medic had been surprised when he was told Heavy had made him breakfast, but he couldn't help but smile when he saw the food placed before him. "Danke," he said, patting Heavy's hand affectionately. He almost felt bad as he picked up his fork to dig in; he was going to ruin Heavy's hard work. That was the problem with edible art. But Heavy had gone through the trouble of making him breakfast, he had to eat it. He murmured another thanks as Heavy brought over syrup before he sat down beside Medic himself with a plate of the same food items; though his plate was made in an ordinary fashion. "Wunderbar," Medic praised as he ate the food and, really, it was good. Then again, anyone—besides Scout—had learned how to cook well by then when they realized they had to cook for themselves. He barely noticed the discontent in Spy's eyes.

Heavy beamed to himself as he ate. At one point he made eye contact with Spy, laughing. Spy just grit his teeth, eating his toast in silence. The war was on—and Heavy loved war. But this war was more important than any of the fighting he had done before; it was the war for Medic, after all. But Spy most certainly wasn't going to make it easy for Heavy, not by a long shot.

That day they went into battle, Heavy cheerier than ever. He sang as he worked, calling out to Medic happily to move up or that he had downed another opponent. The only thing that brought his mood down was when Spy called out for Medic and Medic left him by a dispenser to go tend to the other man.

However, Spy was quite happy to preoccupy Medic's time. He called for Medic again, waiting for the other to find him in a reclusive room set off to the side. Only spies really ran into that room to hide and cloak, change disguise or both.

Upon reaching Spy, Medic inspected him reproachfully. "If you are not hurt zhen I vill be on my way," Medic stated flatly. The man was as unscathed as ever and there he stood, smiling to himself. Why had Spy called for him? Distracting him for no reason was so reckless! An anxiety about having left Heavy alone started sneaking up in the back of his mind.

Spy quickly blocked Medic's path before he could do as he said, resting a hand on Medic's waist, his thumb rubbing idly at Medic's abdomen as he leaned in to kiss Medic. Sure, it was irresponsible to distract Medic (and could potentially get everyone, including themselves, killed). But Spy was insatiable. He _needed _Medic like he needed oxygen. Or, at least, that was his rationalization. "I am not 'urt," he whispered into Medic's ear, kissing the appendage affectionately, "I--"

Before Spy could say anything more, he was staring at the wrong end of an ubersaw. "Eizher you are zhe BLU Spy or you are very irresponsible," Medic hissed, thrusting the ubersaw forward another inch, causing Spy to take a step back, "Eizher way, I do not approve." The chilling look on Medic's face caused Spy's heart to stop. He'd forgotten Medic wasn't just a healer. Before he could say anything to charm Medic, the medicine man was gone, his lab coat fluttering behind him as he raced off to check on the other members of the team.

"Merde," he mumbled, slumping against a wall.

"C'était magnifique," a voice came from behind Spy, adding, "You really do 'ave a way wiz 'im. Maybe I can get a few tips from you, hm? 'Ow about it, mon frère?" The gesture that RED threw at BLU Spy as BLU uncloaked only caused him to laugh, lighting a cigarette idly.

RED took out a cigarette as well, holding it up as BLU lit it for him, tactfully changing the subject, "I would 'ave given it back, you didn't 'ave to knock me out."

"I zink not," BLU responded, leaning against the wall beside RED, "You are not zat charitable." The RED Spy snorted, knowing it was the truth.

RED glanced over at the doorway, scooting away from it so that no one passing by would see them standing there leisurely. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Is zat ze only reason why you were zere?"

"Why would I tell you...?" the BLU Spy asked indignantly, "Zat is for me to know, and for you to find out... if you can." He flicked the ashes off of his cigarette, eyes flashing in delight. He quieted down as he heard footsteps, smiling fondly as he recognized it as a scout that was running by.

Grunting in annoyance after the footsteps faded, RED rounded on BLU, asking forcefully, "What were you doing in zere? And what were you doing wiz our Scout?"

"Since you started _asking_ me zese questions, my opinion of you 'as slipped," BLU said blowing a cloud of smoke in RED's face quickly. RED coughed, taking a step back to swipe at the cloud. Before he regained his composure BLU was cloaked once more and had slipped out of the room. Another curse slipped out of RED's mouth as he too exited the room, making a bee line for the infirmary. However, much to Spy's dismay he could not find anything missing or any clues as to what the BLU Spy had been there for, besides that watch. And he knew BLU would have been able to get along without it.

That day the BLU Spy captured the intelligence, but the morale at the RED base had been at rock bottom for a while; only Heavy's mood had seemed to shift after that. They ate dinner mostly in silence, until Spy couldn't take it, asking heatedly, "What were you doing, fat man? 'Ow could you let 'im get away wiz it?"

Heavy opened his mouth, but the Engie cut in, stating flatly, "Heavy was doin' his job, he was in them sewers. Spy sapped mah sentry 'n' knocked me out.." Spy could feel the heat of Engie's gaze from behind those goggles. "It ain't Heavy's fault," he continued, "So where were _yah_?" That quieted Spy down a bit, and the dinner continued in awkward silence.

However, Heavy's mood seemed to only go downhill from Spy's accusation. The intelligence had been stolen again, and he was partly to blame, even if Engineer claimed otherwise. He set his utensils down, staring at his food, his normally hearty appetite dwindling down to nothing as his stomach started tying itself in knots. And then he felt something warm on his hand, and upon further glance Heavy saw that it was Medic's gloved hand patting his gently. Heavy's gaze trailed up Medic's arm to the man's face; Medic was smiling warmly at him. "Thank you, doktor," Heavy murmured, his stomach settling down enough for him to finish his plate..

After dinner Heavy disappeared out back and Medic returned to his infirmary with a plate of food for Scout who seemed to vacuum up the entire meal in a matter of seconds. He was even licking the plate before offering it back to Medic, who just stared at him in shock. Before then he hadn't particularly paid attention to Scout's eating habits, but now he was wondering how the boy was still a stick with how quickly he could put away food.

"Thanks doc," Scout said, leaning back in his bed, looking quite content. Medic just nodded, setting the plate on his desk to bring back to the kitchen after he was done straightening up in there. Scout took the time to talk about... well, honestly, Medic wasn't listening. He was taking stock of the supplies he had and what he needed more of as he straightened the cabinets.

When the battle was over he had avoided the medical bay because of Scout, but he had to report the damages of the day down and so with a sigh, Medic cleared his throat, saying, "Scout, I need to work now..."

"—and I was li—oh, okay," Scout said, face falling, "I'll tell ya later, then..." He shifted about, wanting to get out of the bed and do _something. _It had been so boring all day just sitting there, and now the only person who he'd seen all day was telling him to be quiet. He picked up the leather bound journal Medic had given him to doodle and write in, sighing as he tapped the paper with his pen. It was Medic's journal, but the man had written in German so Scout couldn't even snoop in on what his diary said.

Ignoring the tapping Medic began to record what injuries the teammates had sustained during the day and so on. As he was moving from his report on Pyro to Soldier the doors swung open and in came Heavy with a hand behind his back. "Ach," Medic murmured, crossing out a botched word before setting his pen down, "Is zhere somezhing wrong, Heavy?"

Heavy shook his head, moving over to the desk. He glanced at Scout for a moment before revealing a bottle of Scrumpy with a handful of bright yellow dandelions sticking out of it. "I made buket for doktor," he said proudly, setting the makeshift vase down on Medic's meticulously neat desk, "Only flowers were leetle yellow ones." He touched one of the flowers with a beef finger, smiling fondly at the bouquet he had made for Medic, obviously proud of his work.

The sight of the flowers brought a smile to Medic's face as he adjusted them on his desk. "Danke, Heavy," he said, "Zhey are lovely—"

"You guys are so gay for each otha." They both looked back, as if surprised to see Scout still sitting in bed. "Like, it's disgustin'. Don' start makin' out in fronta me or nothin', got it?" he said, staring at them, completely serious.

Medic pinched his nose under his glasses, sighing to himself. Of course Scout had to open his mouth. "You know, if you are in love and you rub one of zhese under your chin and yellow rubs of, zhen you are supposed to be in love," Medic said, pulling a flower out from the Scrumpy bottle.

"No need. Already know," Heavy said firmly.

Nodding, Medic looked over at Scout. He stood up moving over to Scout, who muttered, "This is so dumb..." He tried not to laugh as Medic tickled him with the flower batting it away after a moment.

"It seems you are in love, Herr Scout," Medic said definitively as Scout rubbed at the pollen under his chin. He smiled to himself, returning the flower to the bottle with the others, rearranging them carefully.

A wicked smile came across Heavy's face as he asked, "Who does leetle man love?"

"No one, knucklehead," Scout stated bluntly, "It's just a stupid flower." Heavy's face fell at Scout's comment, but Medic was too busy doing paperwork to notice. He excused himself quickly, wondering if it would have rubbed off under Medic's chin.

-**Author's Note**-

Reviews appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

_The Crazed Artist_: Oh my, you are quick! I was just finishing up my points for my presentation on being a gamer girl when I got your review. I do like BLU Spy a lot. RED Spy is... a bastard. He's not sure how to actually be romantic, but that's because he refuses to love or believe that he loves anyone (besides... oh that's a spoiler. Nevermind). And he's desperate. He has less tact when he realizes he's losing a battle. I love my Heavy too. Ahaha all my french is from online French translators and sites that give you phrases of French. Nihongo to eigo wo hanasu kara furansugo wa chotto... demo, gambatteiru. Too bad I have to write in romaji on this computer. Come back again soon :D

_Chiisai no Yume_: I..I don't know why you're reading it either if you don't like Heavy/Medic hahaha. Can't help you on that one. But I'm glad you enjoy it :D Ah, thank you. I've been working on improving my style/writing/etc since…middle school, really. It's been a long road. Mmm, ScoutSpy. Just wait until the pre-/sequel comes out! It'll centre around that pairing, pretty much. And another one.. not Heavy/Medic. Anyway, thanks again! :D :D

_akuoni_: I knoooow, Heavy is adorable! I love him in payload maps. I know, I know, you were talking about him in the story...but he's so adorable in game, too :( Thank you!

_ZombieZapdos_: Thank you! Haha all the couples? I thought I was cutting back :( I normally add in a million couples... But I'm saving _that _for I Make It Look Easy (the pre-/sequel of this story). Aww, I'm glad :D haha after playing for a while, I've started hating most heavies. I do have this one guy I call "my heavy" though. He's actually a good medic buddy, the rest suck balls. I prefer healing soldiers most of the time...

If you're a fan of No More Heroes as well, then I wrote a crossover fic. It is het, but who can deny the awesomeness of Bad Girl/Soldier? I can't, and I only write yaoi! Just thought I'd mention that fic, since most people don't read crossovers (I know I don't). I'm making it as legit as possible.

Sorry it took so long to update. There's a few reasons why, but I won't get into that here...

-Chapter 9

"Heavy?" Medic asked, stepping into the gun room, "I heard zhat you vanted to see me?" He had been amused by Heavy's attempts to win him over; they were cute and he certainly did like when Heavy tried. It definitely made him feel more special than Spy ever had, but at the same time he was torn between the two. And the scribbled note from Heavy to meet him in the supply room had left him wondering.

Heavy was inspecting his guns, hanging one up on the wall. "Doktor," he said, standing in front of his weapons, "Come here." Nodding, Medic stepped over to Heavy, keeping his distance. He trusted Heavy, but at the same time, he knew Heavy was trying to sweep him off his feet and he wasn't sure if he should let it happen just yet. "This is Sasha," Heavy said, motioning toward his minigun, "She is good. I use only the best bullets for her." He ran a hand down the gun affectionately, spinning the barrel for a second, as if lost in thought as he inspected the gun. But Heavy turned to Natascha, smiling at her fondly now, "This is Natascha." Medic nodded, already knowing each of Heavy's guns, but he didn't interrupt. "She is good too. Helps with Scouts," he patted the gun fondly before turning to the shot gun, "I do not have name for her." He ran a finger down the handle, chuckling softly. "She is always there," he said, "Even when Sasha runs out of ammo, she is there." He turned to his boxing gloves patting them lovingly. "These are my weapons, I know them well," he said before turning to Medic, "I love them." He finally turned to Medic, placing one large hand on Medic's shoulder. "They were all I loved," he said, "Until doktor."

Involuntarily, Medic looked away, feeling his face heat up. Heavy just confessed his love to him, he said it while sober and that serious look in his eyes. It wasn't Spy saying that Heavy loved him. In fact, had Spy ever said that he loved him? Medic tried to take a step back, but Heavy was still holding onto his shoulder, not allowing for such movement.

"Doktor," Heavy said, moving closer. Medic shook his head biting his lip as he avoided eye contact. But Heavy moved closer, leaning down as his forehead rested against Medic's. "No," he said, "Medic." He couldn't stand it anymore. "Spy is not good for you," he stated firmly, running a coarse thumb against Medic's cheek.

Chuckling, Medic looked up at Heavy, asking earnestly, "And… you are?"

"Da," Heavy said quietly, "I know doktor. I love doktor." He cupped Medic's cheek, tilting his head up. Their faces not even an inch away now.

Resting a hand on Heavy's chest, Medic smiled, saying quietly, "Ja. I know…"

"Then what is the matter, doktor?" Heavy asked, searching Medic's eyes, trying to understand, "What is problem?" And Medic couldn't think of any good reason why not. What was really holding him back? Spy really wasn't that great of a match for him, even if Medic liked to pretend he was. And he didn't pull away as Heavy leaned in. Instead he wrapped his arms around Heavy's neck, helping to close the gap. He couldn't resist anymore. He could tell that Heavy was inexperienced, but what he lacked in that department, he made up for in sincerity. He held Medic close, big arms wrapped about Medic's waist. But Heavy was getting eager. He pushed Medic against the wall, still kissing him, not caring that it jostled his guns. "Did… I hurt… doktor?" he asked between kisses, pausing to straighten Medic's glasses.

Medic shook his head, laughing quietly before removing his glasses, holding them in one hand, "Dummkopf." He kissed Heavy gently, running a hand across Heavy's head—what a pity he didn't have hair to hold onto, but he was used to that by now—and pulled the other closer.

However, Heavy wasn't satisfied. He murmured, "Can't be comfortable for doktor." He shifted about, picking Medic up as if he were as light as a teddy bear. He set the doctor down on top of a two tiered desk, below them was a bunch of controls and and above there was a blank screen that came to life whenever the Announcer felt like it. She was a tricky woman.

"Zhat is better," Medic admitted sheepishly, smiling at the blur in front of him that just had to be Heavy. Twirling his glasses about in his hand, Medic smiled up at Heavy. They were this far now but there was something _nagging_ at him.

Heavy leaned in, returning to kissing Medic. His large hands radiated heat to Medic's shoulders and sides as they wandered about the other's body. He just wanted to hold Medic, to be close to him; it was all he ever wanted since he met Medic.

But then Medic said, "Nein." Heavy looked up, his heart stopping. He felt his throat catching, tightening as his stomach dropped. Heavy let go of Medic, his hands dropping lifelessly to his side. But before he could shift away lifelessly, Medic pulled him back, kissing him gently, "Heavy, I cannot, not yet." He ran a gloved finger across Heavy's cheek. "I must speak vis Spy," he said quietly.

"And then…" Heavy said, his expression lifting, "You are mine?" Medic nodded, kissing Heavy's cheek as he was pulled into a hug. The larger man let out a sigh of relief, ruffling Medic's hair as he stood there, embracing Medic. And Medic returned the loving touch, lingering in Heavy's arms, not wanting to go find Spy. "Doktor?" Heavy asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look Medic in the eyes.

Running a hand through his hair, Medic nodded, answering, "I vill go." He kissed Heavy's cheek, giving his hand a little squeeze before setting off to find the masked man.

-Author's Note:

FanFiction messed it up so you can't do two hyphens in a row. Again. Which really pisses me off.

Also, I'm terribly sorry for the long delay! I've been rather busy. I only managed to finish this because I'm on vacation. OTL

Reviews are appreciated, guys.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note:

_The Crazed Artist_: oh no, I'll go bake some more! -runs off- Haha I can't tell you that, you'll just have to read. Is it bad that I laughed at the idea of medic being a hero? OTL Oh no! Come back! D: I'm making more cookies! Even though I have no oven here in Japan I WILL MAKE IT WORK.

_13 Angels death_: Bahaha, you should go see a dentist about that, dear.

_Mayora-san_: shit, son, scoot it up in here! I won't hold it against you; in fact, I'd kind of enjoy it ;D but oh my, the best? :o thank you! I hope I don't disappoint when I mention this is the last chapter... -coughcough- But I do have two other stories going on at the moment: an Engie/Pyro fic and a Bad Girl/Solly fic. ...both of which I need to update so badly. FFFFFUUUUUUU- But there will be the pre-/sequel to ILTD! But that'll be centered around my scouts, there won't be that much Heavy/Medic in it.

_ArmoredSoul_: backstories? What are those? Hahaha, just kidding. But seriously, these two are the least fleshed out characters of mine...mostly because I'm just trying to keep them close to the canon medic and heavy. BUT I'LL TAKE IT :D Yeah, I have problems with a lot of fanfiction because it just seems so unreal based upon what they took it from. I try to keep my shit legit. I stopped writing fanfiction a long time ago because I hated how everyone seemed out of character and stuff like that. I don't know how I ended up writing ILTD, but I did. I also hated original characters and crossovers, but I'm doing those too. Go me. OTL

_akuoni_: it's okay, we all make mistakes ;D haha. I love heavy's character. I hate most people who play heavy. Except my heavy. He is my heavy for life. I do not personal medic any other heavy besides him (...or pho shizzle, if I play with him... or a couple other of my friends who I know are decent heavies... but yeah. I have my very own heavy.). Hahaha I got back into the swing of things today as medic and me and my heavy steam rolled all the bots (I don't play in pubs anymore unless someone asks me to). You know what class is good to personal medic? Soldier. Most people who play Heavy are awful to personal medic. Pyros aren't that great to personal medic either, because you have to get so close to the action. Demos aren't that great either because it's hard for them to defend you. But ubercharging is a different matter, demos are great to uber. So are pyros if you're close enough to most of the other team or the sentries and whatnot. Also, personal medicing is not a sign of a good medic. Regardless, I personal medic my heavy now. But that's because I don't care about the bots on our team. ….I used to play medic rather competitively. Now I just dick around in KOTH with my heavy and bots. I play medic a lot less than I used to, too. Hell, I play TF2 a lot less than I used to. Not because I don't want to play, though...

_qtrhorse89_: Thanks, I try. I used to love heavy/medic, though it's not my favorite anymore. I still quite like it, yeah. But yeah, I do agree it's quite obvious on the battle field. Normally I yell at heavies (I yell at my heavy the most, though. I give him such a hard time... Also, I feel like now that I've found a heavy I work well with I've mated for life or something because I don't heal any other heavy...yeaaaaaah). Yeah, my steam name is pr0nzombie (at times it had a few tags, but you get the point) Haha n00bfort. Well, back when I still played in pubs I played on The Gamer's Playground Dusty 1 (even though it's using the dusty 2 map now) A LOT (it's where I met my heavy! We steam rolled the other team a lot...) and pwndora's box sometimes. Before I degenerated to playing on 2fort servers I played on everything but 2fort ..because it's 2fort. I can't take 2fort seriously. At all. And I was getting rather competitive, then I got burnt out and exhausted with everything and started playing 2fort all the time. Now I just play KOTH and dustbowl with my heavy and bots and it's hella fun. If I play. ): No time + in Japan = no TF2. ...for now.

_random lurker_: Oh my, that's dedication. You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear when people like my story. Haha I believe you are the only person who likes that bastard (spy). Well, I'm quite fond of him actually, but he's still a bastard. I like Blu Spy more than Red Spy. Heavy is made for Medic. Though I am quite fond of other pairings for both of them, as well. (Scout/Heavy? Yes please.)

: Oh yeah? I always wonder about whether people read it on dA or not, since no one really comments and stuff on it that much... Thanks! Hope you enjoy this last chapter... one of my TF2 buddies I met when he was spy crabbing by the way. His name is Meow Mix. It makes me giggle.

_Dios_: FFFFFUUUUUUU- I'VE BEEN SO BUSY, I'M SORRY, BABYCAKES! When I have free time it's rarely spent doing something that requires _thinking_. I'd like to know how Spy reacts too. We'll see when I write it. All I know is I'm going to wing it and keep it in character... That's how most of my writing goes. True story. HERE YOU GO! HOPE YOU ENJOY!

_Chucklenuts_: Ah! I'm sorry! I've been so busy lately D: ...and tired... and busy moving to Japan...

Q: **KillerLover, my love, why did it take so fucking long for this chapter?**  
A: Good question, reader! I was working between 30 and 40 hours a week over the summer (where I was promoted, got a raise for being promoted and then got another raise in that few month time frame). I had very little free time. I was also getting ready to study abroad in Japan (...did I mention I'm studying abroad in Japan this school year?). Lots of paperwork and stuff. And then I ended up in Japan and getting internets has been... difficult to say the least. So that's why it took for-fucking-ever for this chapter. Oh and then there was the whole thing about having difficulty putting what I wanted into words. I guess I had writer's block. Kinda. Hm.

Q: **So what's it like in Japan?**

A: It's awkward having Korean songs stuck in your head when you're an American in Japan. But I can never get Gee out of my head... Oh, wait, that's not what you asked. It's beautiful and everyone's incredibly nice. My cellphone was one yen AND IT'S BALLIN. If you get the chance, go to Miyajima. It's a world heritage site and absolutely beautiful. And get some momijimanju there (I'd recommend the chocolate filling). And pet a deer. Because there's hundreds of them and they like people... and will eat anything. One tried my shirt to see if it was edible. But she couldn't bite through it, luckily.

Q:** PICS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN.**

A: ...that's not question. I'll put up a link to the public view of my facebook album on my profile if anyone's interested, just let me know.

So this chapter wasn't betad because I felt like I took too long to get it out to you guys. OTL Also it's rather short. -facepalm-

-Chapter 10-

Medic wrung his hands together as he headed out of the gun room. His mind was going a mile a minute but his legs only moved sluggishly as Medic made his way toward the living quarters. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, Medic wiped his forehead sighing to himself. He tried to form the words in his mind, what exactly he wanted to say, but he couldn't even string together a full sentence in his mind.

"Ah, Herr Spy," he said in surprise as he rounded the corner, spotting the man in question in front of him, "I vas looking for you..."

Spy looked up, a thin smile spread across his lips as he flicked the ashes off of his cigarette. Settling the cigarette between his lips he opened the door motioning in, "Shall we?" Medic nodded in response, entering Spy's room uneasily. "To what do I owe ze pleasure, amour?" Spy asked, shutting the door behind himself. Having been trained as a spy, naturally Spy was able to read others' body language quite well. He was no fool, he could see how tense Medic was.

"Ve need to talk..." Medic said, pacing about the room anxiously. He ended up standing awkwardly by the desk Spy had been granted in his room.

Nodding, Spy chuckled quietly, murmuring, "Isn't zat what we are doing?" He loosened his tie before removing it completely, setting it on his dresser carefully before pulling his jacket off as well.

"Vell..." Medic started, caught off guard. He smiled, relaxing slightly as he watched Spy moving about his room. "Ja, ve are," he concluded, pulling his glasses off to clean them, "It's about us."

Nodding, Spy chuckled quietly. "You mean it's about you and 'Eavy," he stated bluntly, hanging his jacket up in his wardrobe.

Medic stiffened, replacing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Spy, scrutinizing the man as Spy moved closer. He flinched slightly as Spy took his hand, licking his lips uneasily. Bringing Medic's hand up to his lips, Spy placed a gentle kiss on the the back of Medic's hand before returning it to Medic's side. Medic just stared at Spy inquisitively, unable to comprehend the man at all.

"Zis does not surprise me at all," Spy mused quietly, pinching his brow, "I saw it coming before you did..."

Medic rested a hand on Spy's shoulder, kissing the other's masked cheek. "Es tut mir leid," he murmured quietly, "I did not mean to..."

Pressing a finger to Medic's lips, Spy laughed harshly, a wicked look in his eyes. "Of course you didn't," he hissed, "Go to your obese lover, I do not want to talk wiz you about zis." He turned his back to Medic, moving into the bathroom, shutting the door before the German man could respond.

Medic opened his mouth, sighing in defeat as the door was shut firmly in front of him. "Es tut mir leid..." he repeated once more as he exited the room. How had he expected Spy to react? It's not like he expected Spy to be thrilled, but he certainly didn't feel wonderful. How could he have expected Spy to approve of it. He trailed off to his room, planning on speaking with Heavy the next day. Right then he just wanted to sleep.

A week later Spy found himself wandering down the hallways, unable to sleep. By that time Scout was out of the infirmary, walking—or, more so, limping—around and pestering everyone like normal. Spy had only heard about Scout's condition from the boy's noisiness through his door. He had been avoiding the team in general for the past week: taking his meals at odd hours, cloaking and staying away from his own teammates, sapping sentries and whatnot. He didn't want to see any of their faces.

Maybe that wasn't true. All he could think about was Medic and Heavy—and out of the whole team they were the ones he wanted to think about the least. Yet, even as he was wandering the halls aimlessly while cloaked he found himself in front of Medic's door.

With a sigh the masked man glanced about the hallway before opening the door and peering in. There they were, crammed into that bed looking so... so... content. Spy's face twisted and contorted as he looked at the two—trying hard to be disgusted, to be upset. But in the end he couldn't even bring himself to even care. He snorted, amused as Heavy pulled Medic closer in his sleep as if the man was a teddy bear.

Glancing back into the hallways, Spy stepped into the room, moving over to the bed. "Au revoir, mon ami" he murmured, bending down to kiss Medic's cheek before he knew what he was doing. But Spy quickly caught himself, adjusting his tie as he peered down at the two before turning away.

"Spy is not angry any more?"

Spy stiffened, turning to see Heavy with his eyes half open, still holding Medic like a his favorite stuffed animal. "Euh..." Spy stumbled to reply, "No."

"Oh, this is good," Heavy said happily, grinning widely at Spy.

The masked man shook his head, activating his cloak once more. "You look like an idiot" he hissed to Heavy before heading out of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose as he heard Heavy laugh heartily with disregard to Medic sleeping. As he shut the door behind him he heard the German man's voice asking Heavy what was so funny. But he didn't bother to listen in on that conversation; he just kept walking.

-Author's Note-

So, for the pre-/sequel how do you guys feel about me using their names? None of these characters are canon... It'll be easier to keep track of them that way and make it easier in writing for me... Luckily I remembered to bring the notebook with the chapters for that story written down in it with me to good old Nippon.

As for ASC and YTYBD I'm not sure when I'll be able to/when I will update those two.

It's over! ...hope you enjoyed it, reviews appreciated (:


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